Fairytale
by Fate4Destiny
Summary: One shot based on Fairytale by Alexander Rybak. Lemon. France x Canada (Franada). Francis just can't stop being addicted to Matthew. Regardless of how low it brings him.


_A/N: song is: Alexander Rybak - Fairytale. I absolutely love it!_

_Lyrics are in bold. _

_Contains: sexual content, and underage sex. Rated M for a reason. Not too graphic though..._

_Pairings: France x Canada_

**Years ago when I was younger**

**I kinda liked a girl I knew**

Matthew looked up at the Frenchman as he plucked roses from his garden. When Francis looked sideways at his curios colony he gave a smile and made a motion for Matthew to come closer. Matthew slowly did so, wondering why Francis was always with these flowers and giving them away. He was just recently taken from his home, where he had fields of flowers. What did one more mean?

Matthew was in shock as he felt the Frenchman's soft fingers glide over his skin, swiping a strand of hair behind the boy's ear. He then cut the stem off a rose and placed the flower there.

"Très beau, mon cher."

Matthew was confused. Was the flower the only thing that made him look nice? The young boy pulled the flower out in confusion and Francis chuckled before clipping another one. This one he placed in Matthew's hand.

"A rose for every beautiful women I will ever meet. Because beauty is an art, non? And those women know it oh so well."

"Then why are you giving me a flower?"

Francis gave a smile as he stroked his colony's hair.

"Because you're beautiful no matter what or who you will become. Never forget that."

Matthew never did. Nor did he forget it was Francis who had told him that.

**She was mine and we were sweethearts**

Francis put his hand against Matthew's bare stomach, having slipped it underneath the boy's shirt. He felt the younger boy shiver, the boy looking confused. Francis simply gave another seductive smile, watching the boy blush furiously.

His hands slowly moved away and began unbuttoning the shirt his child wore.

"Papa?"

"Ferme tes yeux, mon cher."

Matthew nervously closed his eyes, but soon opened them again. He saw his father pull his own shirt off. Never before did Matthew react to it, but this time he subconsciously dragged his hips over the bed. Francis gave a deep chuckle into his ear as he held the boy down. Francis then softly pressed his lips to Matthew's temple.

The boy sinfully raised his hips, brushing against France's hard member. The Frenchman gave another chuckle, whispering to his son.

"Seems like you want this, Matthew,"

"Non-"

"But you're blushing and can hardly breathe properly. Don't you want your papa?"

Francis traced his finger over Matthew's lower lip, causing his colony to gasp slightly for breath. Matthew gave a deep groan, one for more, from deep in his throat. Francis chuckled again as he watched his son sinfully start to beg for him, his father.

**That was then, but then it's true**

Francis woke up to have his colony curled up in his arms. Francis smiled into Matthew's hair, he was such a beautiful and innocent boy. Or at least he was innocent. The way he screamed Francis's name made him feel so deliciously bad. It was so kinky, so satisfying, Francis knew he could no longer be the boy's father. He had to become something much more.

**I'm in love with a fairytale even though it hurts**

**'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind I'm already cursed**

Francis watched his son with a lust filled gaze. Damn that boy for being so seductive and not realize it. The way he was laying down on the couch, not knowing his father was already half undressed.

Francis paused right before pouncing the youth. They used to be so close, Matthew used to trust him with anything.

Francis tried to stop himself but then couldn't hold himself back. They couldn't erase the past now, could they? But he didn't want to. Now, Francis would rather face eternal torture then stop this.

**Every day we started fighting**

Matthew tried desperately to push Francis away. The Frenchman pushed his young body against the counter and his smooth hands dipped inside his pants. Feeling him, Matthew gave a deep moan, tears running down his eyes.

"Please, papa, I don't want this. Please!"

Matthew could hardly breathe and his sobs caused the scene around him to become colourful streaks to his tear filled eyes. He felt his pants pulled down, his skin bare to whatever would await him.

He felt Francis's fingers placed on his lower lip and his father spoke in such an arousing voice Matthew whimpered. The fingers were slipped in and Matthew gave out a small cry. He knew what was coming and he didn't want it. He could only cry and sob as he felt the intrusion. The entire time his father was making him feel so used, but it felt so good. He couldn't help but comply, couldn't help but let Francis used him. But he hated the Frenchman for it.

**Every night we fell in love**

Matthew sat alone on his bed, feeling empty. Oh dear god how he needed it. He had been living by his father's sexual pleasure for so long now, he would come home and beg for it. Beg to be used, beg to be entered. Francis would always comply. But tonight the Frenchman said he was busy. It drove Matthew insane.

The youth walked to Francis's room and opened the door. He saw the Frenchman on the bed with a book, his focus on it. Matthew pulled his clothes off and then kneeled beside the bed.

"Papa, I need you!"

Matthew begged and watched Francis slowly put the book away.

"Say that again."

"Papa, I want you."

"Again, Matthew, what do you want?"

The Frenchman got off the bed and undid his tie. He bound Matthew's hands together then tied them to his bed frame. The Frenchman then pressed his body against Matthew's, running his hot breath over the pale skin. The Frenchman ever so slowly circled his hips over Matthew's lower backside, showing the youth he was also hard. But he would play alone.

"What do you want, Matthieu?"

"I w-want you."

"Me to do what?"

"I want you to enter me. To use me. To sleep with me. Papa, I can't live without this. I want you so badly!"

Matthew began crying and soon felt Francis trace a finger down his spine. Francis then sat on the bed in front of Matthew, clothes gone and his legs spread out.

"Show me that you want me."

**No one else could make me sadder**

**But no one else could lift me high above**

Matthew didn't know what to do anymore. He hated Francis at the beginnings of their nights, then made the youth need him to survive. As Matthew was spent he laid in Francis's arms, feeling sick for the actions they committed but feeling like he never wanted it to stop. He pressed his lips on France's shoulder and began kissing the smooth skin, his tongue lapping at the older male.

He felt Francis's hands grip his hips and place him against the pillows. He saw the hurt in Matthew's eyes as the youth knew what was going to happen. But within moments Francis was overcome by a hunger. And he wanted more. So much more.

**I don't know what I was doing**

Francis knew he crossed the line when he was found out. It didn't matter what he had done, the worst possible thing to do was to have been caught.

Francis couldn't form words. He was known to bring many ladies to bed, but his own son? Francis's hands gripped at Matthew, his nails drawing blood. He then watched Arthur leave with dark eyes.

**When suddenly we fell apart**

Francis knew it was his last day with Matthew. Arthur would take him away any minute. He wanted to talk like any father could. To tell the boy he missed him, he never wanted him to leave. But he didn't. He couldn't.

His lips ran over the boy's skin, murmuring words of encouragement for the boy to do the same back. It didn't take much, they were well-versed in what to do.

Matthew bite into Francis's shoulder to stop any sounds he made. Francis groaned in pain before pulling his dripping member from Matthew's body. He then felt the youth clutch at his member and tug. Francis gave a deep and loud groan before watching Matthew turn around and beg for it. How could Francis refuse what his son wanted the last day they would spend together?

**Nowadays I cannot find her**

Francis sat in his house, alone. It had been two years now. And he had brought home a women every night to take his mind off Matthew. But tonight, it marked the day Matthew left. Francis couldn't get himself to do anything but sit there.

He then felt his flesh heat up and he gave a small pant. He slipped his own pants down at the memories of his son begging for him. He never hated himself more than ever before as he began to touch himself, all because he had corrupted his beautiful colony.

**But when I do we'll get a brand new start**

Francis sat at Arthur's table, rejected, Arthur gone. He gave a pitiful sigh as he looked blindly out a window. And there he saw Arthur show his son how to play catch.

Francis bit his lower lip until it bled as his son gave a laugh, smiling at his new father. Francis wiped the blood away with jealousy sparking inside of him. He would get Matthew back. No matter what it took. And he would stop their relationship.

**I'm in love with a fairytale even though it hurts**

Francis's plan had sounded good in the beginning, but when he saw his son long after, the thoughts fled his mind. There, in the pouring rain, stood Matthew at his doorstep. The youth had grown up, quite beautifully, Francis remarked, as expected.

Francis knew what Matthew had done when he was younger and was expecting revenge. Instead Matthew held out a rose which was filled with water.

Francis couldn't bring himself to accept it, not after what he had done to the boy. He plucked the rose from the cold hands then placed it in Matthew's soaking hair.

"Très beau, as always."

**'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind I'm already cursed**

Matthew clung to his father before Francis could close the door. The younger one quickly pulled off his shirt and Francis could only stare briefly. His little boy had grown up.

"Papa, I still want you. Everyday. I'm going crazy because of it."

**She's a fairytale, yeah even though it hurts**

Matthew spread his legs out on the Frenchman's bed. Francis slowly went into his ex-colony's body. The Canadian writhed slightly before allowing Francis to go in further. Tears pricked the corner of Matthew's eyes from pain as the Frenchman began rocking back and forth.

Francis didn't let Matthew go once during the night. Whenever he begged to leave Francis bound him tightly to his bed. And before he knew it, years of lust had been filled, but their trust cracked and rotted once again.

**'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind I'm already cursed**

Arthur didn't have anything to say when he saw Francis's body dripping sweat. The Canadian next to him could hardly stand, and Francis touched himself underneath the table. The Canadian gave a sudden moan and threw his head back, the Frenchman working on him with his feet. Arthur felt almost sick, but he knew there was no way he could stop it.

He watched Francis duck underneath the table and Matthew twist and pant in pleasure. And for the longest time, Arthur got up and left, silently, and with nothing to say. No matter what he could do, their love was like a curse. It would ruin them both. But until then, nothing else could satisfy them but the other.

_A/N: thanks for reading. Whenever I hear this song, I think of France x Canada. Just not so... Lemon-ish. Please review!_


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